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“Here she comes,” Ester whispered, coming up to Eleanor’s side.
She glanced to the left and saw her grandaunt walking over with another lady and a young gentleman. He was handsome with his almost white-blonde hair, blue eyes even brighter than hers and a most charming smile. When he glanced up from something Lady Celdon said, he saw Eleanor and even stumbled a bit.
She swallowed her smile, silently accepting the compliment. Eleanor was not vain, but she knew of her beauty and how others reacted to it. Ellie knew that tonight she looked ravishing in her pale rose-colored satin gown which had been designed to flatter her figure to its best advantage. White kid gloves hugged her slender arms and satin dancing slippers encased her feet. Her raven tresses had been artfully piled atop her head and seeded with pearls, which also dangled from her ears and draped in two strands around her throat. Tonight she had been especially attired to tempt, attract, and captivate. And it seemed the heir to the barony and all-around sought-after catch was ensnared.
He did not remove his gaze from Eleanor when the small party came to a halt beside her.
“There you are, my dear girl,” Lady Celdon said, smiling. “Lady Hayford, allow me to present my grand-niece to you, Miss Eleanor Fairbanks.”
She dipped into a curtsy and greeted the baroness before turning her regard to the son who was then introduced as the honorable Mr. Jeremy Hayford. His father, the current baron, was out of town, and he had escorted his mother to the ball. The introductions completed, he charmingly asked for her hand in the next dance set.
“Thank you, Mr. Hayford,” she said with a polite smile. “It would be my pleasure.”
It was a quadrille, and Eleanor had great fun dancing the moves with him and the other dancers. By the time it ended, she was flushed and laughing.
“Would you allow me to procure you a glass of punch?”
“I…yes, thank you.”
He waded through the crowd, and this time it was Emma who appeared by her side, arching her brow.
“He is most handsome, Eleanor, and he already looks at you like a man smitten.”
“Pish,” she said, unfurling her fan. “One cannot be smitten at a first encounter.”
As if to mock her, an enigmatic and heated pair of storm gray eyes floated into her thoughts. Her heart shivered, and she curled her fingers over her fan at the unbidden memory. Mr. Glendevon was never too far from her thoughts, especially when she lay in her bed unable to sleep, tossing and turning with a restlessness she did not understand. Eleanor did not want to think about him. Not now. Striving for equanimity, she took a deep breath. “He is a pleasant dancer. We did not converse much, but he has implied he might call upon Colin to invite me for a ride in Hyde Park.”
Emma frowned. “Why does he not invite you directly.”
“I had the very same thought,” Eleanor said with a light laugh. “Perhaps this is one of thetonpolite customs we do not yet understand.”
“They are not so very polite,” Emma said with a mischief grin on her face. “I just saw Lady Bethany being kissed on the mouth in the hallway by a man everyone says is a rake. She is the daughter of a duke! And is considered to be a diamond of the season and so very proper.”
“Never say!” Eleanor gasped. “Do not repeat it, Emma. Someone might overhear and her reputation would be compromised.”
Her sister sniffed. “I am merely pointing out how hypocritical they are. I am very annoyed with this notion that we need decorum lessons.”
“Emma—”
Eleanor’s words faltered as an odd tingling went down her shoulders and the nape of her neck tightened.
Her sister touched her arm. “What is it?”
“I get the sensation that someone is watching me, most intently,” she said glancing over her shoulder.
Emma looked behind her. “There are just too many people here. I do not see anyone being scandalous.”
Eleanor could not shake the feeling or the odd languorous feeling suffusing her body. The ball went on, and she danced with a few more gentlemen. Mr. Hayford introduced her to a few of his friends, young ladies and gentlemen in their age range, and they stood in a circle near a potted plant chatting. Eleanor enjoyed herself immensely, more than she thought she would. At first, being a part of thetonhad brought to mind toplofty people with whom she would never find any connection. Her family had been country gentry with a modest income before Colin had inherited the earldom and wealth to last them ten lifetimes.
How would she be able to blend acceptably within this setting without tripping on her feet had been a private worry to her. But as she stood there talking about art and Shakespeare and oddly the weather at times, she felt a wretched start in her heart, a hope that they did belong right here amongst all the wealthy and extravagant. It was not a mistake that would soon be rectified. This was indeed their new life.
“Has anyone readThe Castle of Wolfenbach,” Lady Jane, the daughter of an earl, said. “It was utterly horrifying yet so thrilling and wonderful.”
Eleanor thought of the book she’d read from Mr. Glendevon and wondered if he had received her note. Of course she had not been improper enough to instruct the footman to await a reply nor leave an address. She smiled and danced and conversed with several people, and a little after one in the morning Eleanor found herself a bit bored. She excused herself shortly after and went in search of her sisters. Standing by a Corinthian column, she sipped a glass of champagne and stared at the dancing couples.
“My feet are hurting,” she said a bit mournfully.
“You have danced several times,” Emma said laughing. “My toes are also begging me to stop.”
